Offerings for the Moon
by Tsuki no Kodomo
Summary: Choosing a path is difficult. There is no wrong path, only the path that will make you happy. Which path will you choose? BakuraxRyou
1. Chapter 1

Offerings for the Moon

_Hello, and welcome to my Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction "Offerings for the Moon". The story will be told through two points of view, Ryou's and Bakura's. For the sake of this story, as it is an Alternate Universe story, Ryou's last name will be changed, and Bakura will get a last name._

_This story will contain concepts relating to occult, so if this offends you, please walk away now, otherwise, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the story!_

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"Be a good boy," mamma whispered, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. As I watched her die, from a fatal knife wound to the chest, I knew that "good" would become synonymous with "dead".

From that moment, the one truth was power, and nothing would keep me from living life to its fullest. I stood, and fled from the house, my mind set in stunning clarity, despite what I had just witnessed. _No matter what the cost might be_.

* * *

"Be a good boy," pappa whispered. Moments later, his grip on my hand loosened, and he left the world, and me, forever. Watching him lay there, in a pool of his own blood, I cried.

"I'll make you proud, Pappa," I agreed, "I'll be the best that I can be, and I'll make you proud."

As I sat there, still clutching my father's hand, people entered my home, taking the bodies of my mother, and sister from the house. After prying my hand from my father's, his body, too, was taken from the house, and I felt loneliness suddenly weigh heavily on my chest.

There was no one else for me, now, and digesting that felt disgustingly hard. A lump built in my throat, and the tears that had stopped threatened to fall again. After a few moments, people came again, new ones, and gently took either of my arms, leading me to a carriage outside the house, and I followed, numbly.

"How old is he?" I heard a stout old woman ask the man who sat across from me.

"I'm seven," I answered, surprised that I didn't choke on that still uncomfortable lump.

Her voice became hushed, and her arm wrapped around my shoulders. She stroked my hair, gently. "It's okay to cry, Ryou," she consoled, her curly, grey locks brushing against my cheek. "It's okay to cry."

It took a few moments, but soon, I rested my head on her shoulder, and I cried. Heaving sobs threatened to tear my chest apart, I bawled against her until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, and then I slept.

When I woke, again, I found myself in a large room, surrounded by children. Many peered rather widely at me, before one leaped up and flew to attach itself to me. "He's awake, he's awake!" the boy sang, and soon others gathered in, asking questions of me faster than I could register them.

After a while, when I didn't answer their questions, they became silent, and just watched me again. I smiled, slowly.

"Um… Where am I?" I asked, glancing around at various people who caught my eye.

"You're in St.Odeon's Orphanage!" A small, dark haired boy responded, with a chipper smile.

_An Orphanage…_ That bitter sense of loneliness returned, before a hand was thrust into my face. Glancing to see who was attached to that hand, I saw that same dark haired boy grin.

"Hi! I'm Yuugi, by the way!" he declared, "Let's be friends, okay? You can share my toys!"

Somehow, that warmed me up inside, considerably, and I laughed. "Can we play?" I asked, and before I knew it, I was being shooed towards a few wooden trains on the floor, which Yuugi rather proudly declared were his toys from 'Mistress' for Christmas.

Months passed, and my family became nothing but a happy memory, and as the years went on, the children from the orphanage also became family to me. It was sad when my family was adopted away, and it was sad that we never saw them again.

Yuugi and I often mused that perhaps being adopted was bad, because they wouldn't let you see your friends again, and because adults just didn't understand that we were family. We would hide in a closet under the stairs when people came to look at us, so they couldn't take us away from one another. He was my best friend, and he mattered to me more than anything.

When we were around ten years old, however, this friendship seemed to slowly dissipate. Yuugi had made friends with siblings, who had been around a while, and I distanced myself somewhat, in my loneliness.

Enter Malik, age thirteen. I swear I was in love with him. His dark skin, his blonde hair… At times, I found him rude to the point of obscenity, but nevertheless the way I felt was something I could barely understand.

I do believe that he noticed me; at least, I liked to believe it then. He spent most of his time to himself, he would never change with the rest of us, never have baths when the others could walk in on him.

The first time we spoke, he was so angry with me for so much as approaching him, that I couldn't even look at him again for a week. Eventually, we went everywhere together. I never really knew much about him, just that he didn't trust adults, at all, and he couldn't stand stupidity, or incompetence.

This was easy enough for me to deal with, though I do feel at times that my nature also irritated him.

"Not everyone wants to be happy all the time, Ryou," he explained. "Sometimes, feeling sad can be the best feeling in the world…"

"But why would you want to feel sad?" I asked. He smiled.

"Because we all need to cry now and then." He ruffled my hair a bit, and I leaned on his shoulder. I still didn't understand, but it was enough for me at the time.

When we were sixteen, I was to be adopted. The woman seemed nice enough, and I was a little sad to be leaving, but nevertheless, it kinda felt nice to be leaving. When Malik found out, he protested – loudly.

"You can't go with that woman," he insisted, holding both of my shoulders, he was visibly scared. "She doesn't want to adopt you, Ryou, she wants to _sell_ you."

"… Like… a slave?" I asked him, blinking somewhat, but he shook his head, looking a bit worse, and becoming pale.

"No, like a prostitute."

I watched him a bit, then frowned. "And how would you know?" I asked him. I, too, was becoming upset. I had a chance to get out of this place, and have a family, and instead of being happy for me, Malik was trying to keep me here.

Malik winced, and looked away. "… Ryou… that woman… I know her," he said, chewing his lip. "When I came here… I came here from her."

"She's your mother?" I blinked.

"No," Malik sighed. "She… sold me off to men, for money. She's a Mistress."

Now I bit my lip, too. "But… all the papers have been signed and… she's coming to get me tomorrow… a-and…"

Malik looked around the room a bit again, checking that it was still empty, before whispering. "Gather your things; we'll get out of here tonight, okay?" I hesitated, before nodding. "Good. I'll take care of you, I promise."

True to his word, that night, the things I had packed and hidden were taken, and me along with them. Malik and I fled down the cobblestone streets, and into the night, with the midsummer stars shining above us, and the oil lamps passing in blurry lines.

I tried to ask Malik where we were going, but running was making it hard to breathe, much less make intelligible sentences. We soon found ourselves on a bridge, and while I caught my breath, Malik perched himself on the stone rail.

"…We won't have somewhere to stay right away… but I'll do what we can to keep you safe and comfortable, okay?" he gazed at the sky while he spoke to me, and yet it felt like he could see inside me.

"I'll try and help, too," I told him, once my breath was somewhat returned to me. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

Malik smiled. I smiled back. We both looked out over the river, watching the stars twinkle in its reflection, while the oil lamps went out along the road.


	2. Chapter 2

_Offerings to the Moon_

Life on the street is a blissful haven. Money is everywhere, there are no rules and anger is easily dealt with. We are the lawless, the free and the powerful.

As I dumped a bag of loot to the floor, an overwhelming rush of exhilaration washed over me, and I sunk into a comfortable chair. Another bag dropped beside mine, and a man joined me, grinning widely.

"Good haul," he commented, sitting himself into another chair to enjoy our post-theft high.

"You doubt me, Marik?" I grinned at my partner, in return. "You should know better."

My partner simply smirked and pulled a golden armlet from a bag. "This was a pretty high profile heist, Bakura. Are you sure we should have done that?"

I glanced to him, and then trained my eyes on the armlet in amusement. "We'll lay low for a little while. They'll get over it. We cleaned up well enough after ourselves anyway," I shrugged.

"We should sell this junk before people are informed of what's been missing," Marik sighed, tossing the armlet back into the bag.

"We'll even find a go-between if it will make you more comfortable." A tint of annoyance bit into me. Marik knew full well that I had done this long enough to keep either of us from getting into trouble. It aggravated me quite a bit that he would question me _now_ of all times.

"Yeah… sounds good," the blonde agreed, sinking back into the seat, and staring up at the ceiling.

I watched him for a moment, before doing much the same. The world seemed so large when I was a child… ten years had passed, and that memory stayed a simple memory. I found it strange, for many years, that I felt no remorse for the loss of my parents. My path was clear and stable, and even had bars so that I wouldn't fall off.

It had been hard, at first. Three years alone in the streets, learning techniques, learning to survive, but I made it through. Meeting Marik was almost a Godsend – though I highly doubted Marik was any sort of heavenly being. Hellsend, perhaps.

Company is almost as annoying as it is comforting, but there are times I'm well aware that I need more hands. Bigger haul, more money, and the pros outweighed the cons. _Though,_ I thought absently, _if he leaves his dirty clothes in the tub one more time, I might very well kick him in the balls._

I stood, with a sigh. "No time to procrastinate, I'll find that go-between and get this shit the hell out of here…" Looking to Marik, I couldn't help but be amused. He'd fallen asleep already. Recently, he'd been doing this a lot. Heist after heist, and then he'd get home and crash into a deep sleep. I wondered if he was ill, perhaps, but he seemed to have as much energy as ever, and didn't show any signs of a fever, or cough, even, so I didn't press the idea.

I pulled a coat over my shoulders and grabbed a hat, heading out and locking the door behind me, knowing that any decent thief would have the ability to pick that lock, and that if they happened to do so they were going to be very dead men very fast. Or very raped, and then very dead women, knowing how Marik dislikes his sleep being interrupted.

I headed down the cobblestone streets with a specific destination in mind. There was one person I knew would always come through for me as a go-between, and made enough money from doing so to keep himself rather well off. I approached a decent sized brick house, and took the knocker into my hand, striking it hard against the door three times.

After a few moments, crimson eyes peered out from the door, then the door closed again, and there were sounds of the door unlatching. Soon, the door was opened to me again, and I was quickly waved in. "Feeling a bit cautious today, Yami?" I asked, as the man locked and bolted the door again.

"That damned Gardener is being a wretch. I swear she's stalking me," Yami muttered, heading towards the drawing room. I hung up my coat, and followed after him, with a look of amusement.

"Poor thing, having to deal with a little girls' crush."

The shorter man sent me a very distasteful look, and I laughed a bit, sitting myself in one of Yami's ridiculously elaborate chairs. "Word down the grapevine is you made yourself a rather large heist today," he quickly changed the subject, looking rather comfortable in his own chair. "I assume that's why you're here?"

"And a good assumption that is," I nodded. "Marik doesn't want to deal with this one on our own, so I promised him I'm find a go-between."

"I'll do it, but only if you get everything to me tonight," Yami stated. "For the usual fifteen percent."

I nodded, and stood. "Then we're done here?"

"Well, unless you want to offer me your partner…?" Yami purred, and I snorted. "I highly doubt he'd agree to that. Remember last time?"

"Why do you think I was asking?" the crimson eyed man stood, with a small pout. "He did make it so very enjoyable."

I waved a hand, heading to the door and pulling on my coat. "No, no… I think he's sick, to be honest with you, so today I'll have to disagree on his part. I'll be back at nightfall with the stuff."

Yami nodded, opening the door to let me out. "I'll see you later then."

I gave him a slight nod, and headed out towards the market. Food was the next priority. Now that I knew money was dealt with, it was best to buy food, and maybe, just maybe, that delectable little boy would still be at the brothel later that night. I adjusted my hat a little bit just as the rain started to lightly pummel the streets. _Perhaps I'll take a carriage home,_ I thought with distaste. The money from today's heist would be enough to hold us for a good deal of time, but I still wasn't ready to deal with the consequences of both Marik and I getting ill at once.

As I was about to head into the general store which I tended to get our food from, a sight caught my eye, and made me pause and blink to make sure I'd seen it right. Sure enough, there was a tantalizingly beautiful little boy making his way through the crowd a little ways down the road. His clothes were already soaked with water, and clung lightly to his skin, and his hair dripped with its dampness.

He gave a light shudder, and looked back a moment, in my direction, though he didn't seem to spot me, I noticed with utmost disappointment, as he disappeared into an alley. I looked at the general store, then turned away, towards the alley I'd seen the boy disappear into.

He sat at the end of the alleyway, huddling to keep dry in the rather sudden downpour that the previously sprinkling rains had turned into. As I approached, he looked up, his green eyes widening a little in doe-like fear. I simply cocked my head slightly.

"Aren't you cold?" he nodded a little bit. "Then, why don't you head home?"

"… Why are you asking me strange questions like that?" he blinked, seeming genuinely puzzled. "Did you really come here just to ask that?"

I paused. "Well, no… you just kinda… looked cold, so I thought I might offer a jacket?" I began to shrug out of my jacket, before the boy stood and grabbed it to keep it on me.

"Oh heavens no! If you do that, you'll get very sick! That wouldn't be any good at all!" he insisted, seeming quite worried about my well-being rather suddenly. It was a rather peculiar feeling to have stranger worry about me, especially such a pretty young one such as the boy who was shivering with cold so closely.

His white hair seemed to me to be vaguely whiter than my own, and more than a little bit tamer. His skin was so pale, I thought he might be albino, though his green eyes somewhat negated that idea, quickly. His body was thin, through the clothes, thin beyond healthy, and almost sickeningly fragile looking.

Oh, I had every intention of taking him home with me, but before I got the chance to offer that option to him, a voice called "Ryou!" from the entrance to the alley, and the boy looked up and said a quick 'goodbye!' before disappearing into the crowd at the end of the alley. The rain seemed to lessen a little, and I sighed, heading out to finish my grocery shopping. _Ryou… just wait until I find you again._ The brothel boy was now far from my mind.

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_A/N: Oh gosh, guys! I'm so sorry this chapter took so long! I had a lot of troubles with it… (oops?) Bakura was being a little difficult to try and keep in character, but somehow I managed to finish it! Hooray! The next chapter should come with a little more ease, and yes, will have more into Ryou's thoughts than the first chapter. So! Next chapter: Ryou's thoughts on this meeting, and the peculiar thief, and another odd encounter? We'll see!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Offerings for the Moon_

"Malik… Malik you really need medicine!" He lay on the bed, his hair matted, and pasted to his face by sweat. He'd been like this for two days, and it was starting to really scare me. His breaths were ragged and he hissed in pain as he exhaled… and the worst part? I didn't have the slightest idea how to get him better.

"Not… like that, Ry'…" he murmured, pain evident in his face as he spoke. "Told'ja… I don' want any o' that… 's why you're here… 'member?"

My fists clenched at my sides. It wasn't that I _wanted_ to whore myself off. Malik had kept me so clean from all of that, but how else could I get him medicine? These last few years, he'd taken such good care of me. He'd protected me, and fed me, and clothed me… doing just what I was suggesting to keep me safe and comfortable.

And it was sweet! But ever so frustrating at the same time. I didn't want to be useless while he'd been so kind. And if he died from this… this sickness… wouldn't I end up in the same position anyway? Permanently?

"Please, Malik! I've tried every other way! What'll I do if you die on me, huh? I don't want you to be gone, then I'd be alone again! Would I be any better off?" I protested. "Where would I end up?"

Malik, however, was too sick to listen to reason – I wasn't sure he wasn't using his illness as an excuse to ignore my very valid points. But I wasn't going to deface him that way. What I wanted… was Malik to get better. Maybe if I'd just taken that kind man's jacket, and given it to Malik… maybe then he'd never be in this mess.

Malik began to speak, but I was too distracted to register any more than that. The stranger… oh he'd been attractive. Very much so. Was it peculiar of me to have seen him, and immediately thought to kiss him? … Was it desperate of me that I'd hoped he'd followed me to take advantage? … It was, wasn't it? Malik had been very annoyed to hear so.

He'd nearly thrown a right fit, telling me I oughtn't run off like that. What was I supposed to do? It was raining, and we could hardly afford to feed ourselves, never mind afford a jacket, or anything like that.

And now he was upset again. Sickness impeded his speech, and thought processes, but it was still pretty obvious that he was far from pleased.

"It'll just be once," I stated, in the moment Malik paused to descend into a fit of coughs. "It'll just be once, so I can get you medicine!"

There was silence between us, uncomfortable silence. Malik would never agree to this, I knew that. But he also knew I wasn't ready to concede. We were at a standstill, and we knew, if it came down to it, I'd do what I needed. And we both knew what was needed.

"I don't know… that I could stand the thought of fat old merchants and lords putting their grubby hands all over 'ya…" Malik muttered, and I smiled slightly, reaching to place a cool cloth on his forehead.

"Just once, Malik. Just once, so you can get better."

He closed his eyes, his face red with fever, and he nodded. Mutually agreed, my fate was set. "I'll be gone tonight, then. Hopefully I can get you medicine, and warm clothing, okay? So you'll get better, and we can keep from getting sick anymore."

The blonde gave a shudder, then curled up to cough again. I winced. Whatever Malik had, I wished it gone as soon as possible. His body was covered in a cold sweat, he sounded like he was coughing up his innards. He was obviously in pain, and what could I do? Nothing. I couldn't do anything yet.

I stood, getting him a glass of tea, then slipped my shoes on. "I'll go, now, and find somewhere to… somewhere that'll take me."

"'Doubt that'll be hard." The compliment was sweet, in a way. I knew it wasn't meant in a flirting sense - whatever relationship we'd had… over the years it had changed. We were friends. Best friends. He would do what he could to earn money, and I would do my best to make the most of it. I cooked, I cleaned, I did the menial tasks. And now, when he was sick… I'd do what it took to get him well again.

With a short smile to him, I headed out. I went exactly where I didn't want to go – I went to the worst district in town. The cobblestone road was littered with buildings, adorned with large signs proclaiming the odd names of 'foreign beauties' and 'exotic women'. I was well aware that their names were completely made up, but I had to wonder – where the heck had they come up with something like 'Sapphire Rose'? … Roses weren't blue. Not in the least. What kind of name was 'Sapphire Rose'?

I wondered, as I wandered the desolate midday street, if I ought to make something up for himself, as well. Not that I wanted to attempt it – Malik's little pet name was already enough to make me laugh. "Jupiter Lips". What? I couldn't help but giggle just thinking of it.

I tried to think of something for myself. Somehow I couldn't come up with anything vaguely appropriate but something like… oh… "Quincy Pierce". At least it _sounded_ like a name. As I passed another building, the name "Mark Throb" caught my eye, and I snorted. Well, at least I knew I was headed into the right area of the district.

It was only a few brief moments before an arm caught mine, and a well-dressed man gave me an unsettling smile. "You don't seem to be in the right place, kid."

I shifted to my other foot. "Actually, I don't believe I am."

The man's eyebrow quirked, and he released my arm. I hugged myself lightly, watching him. He gave me the creeps – oh he looked cleaned up enough, and plenty friendly, but there was something about him that just set alarms off in my head.

"What're you looking for in this area of town, hm?"

"Back off, ya perv," a voice came from behind me, and I spun to look. To my absolute bewilderment, that strange man from before was right there. Far from pleased.

When the other man grabbed me around the waist and pulled me in, I was so taken aback I nearly fell – in fact, I probably would have had the man not kept me upright. "He's not yours to tell me to back off of."

The stranger shot me a look, and I must have looked about as shocked as I felt, because he marched right over, to stare the man down – and what shocked me was just how capable of it he was. He must've been over six feet tall!

"He's my brother. I damn well have every right to tell ya to piss off. If ya don't, it'll be my fist in your face."

The man scoffed, and it took only a brief moment for him to release me when the stranger connected his fist with his nose. The man stumbled away, holding his nose and cursing a bit, before growling something barely intelligible, and taking off down the road.

"You're bein' pretty stupid hanging around these parts," the stranger's husky voice muttered at me. He was annoyed, and it was damned obvious. I wasn't even sure he was _trying_ to conceal it.

"I-it's not… I couldn't…" Gods, why couldn't I find my voice? He was standing just as strangely close as before, and that same feeling in me as before arrived – I wanted him to take advantage. What was wrong with me?

His dark eyes pinned me in place, like a stuttering fool. For some reason, he looked disappointed. "You're a whore, huh?"

"N-no!" I could feel the heat rising to my face. He thought I was a prostitute now! How was I supposed to correct _that_ mistake? "I…" I bite my lip. Perhaps honesty was best? "… My best friend… my provider he's… he's really sick! W-we don't really make money if he's incapacitated… a-and I need to get him medicine…" Somehow, that handsome face remained completely blank through the whole thing.

"… So, you're gonna whore yourself off to freaks like that to earn money to help your… friend?" was it just me, or did he nearly sneer the last word? Didn't he have friends? I lowered my gaze to the cobbles beneath my feet.

"I don't have… a choice. If he dies… if he dies it might become permanent!" I looked up again, the memory of why I was doing this giving me strength. "Just once… to keep from having to do it forever… just once to keep my best friend alive and well. Isn't that worth it?"

A small smirk lit the stranger's lips. A devastatingly beautiful smirk. My whole body ached to touch this unfamiliar and dangerous, yet disarmingly attractive man. It figured my body would choose _now_ to decide it had hormones.

"And have you done it before?" he asked, a little amused.

"W-well no! I… I'm with Malik so that I _wouldn't_ end up here!"

Something malicious lit in those reddish-brown eyes. Something dangerous, and my brain screamed at me to run, but my body pinned me in one place. He stepped forward, so close that I could feel the warmth from his body through out clothes. His head moved down, and we were suddenly eye-to-eye. Still, I didn't move.

Wordlessly, his arms wrapped around my waist, forcing my body against his own – not that I was in any mood to protest. His warm lips pressed against mine and one of his hands rested against my rear, causing me to squeak softly. Of their own accord, my eyes closed, my body relaxed into him, and there was a moment. A moment of astounding peace.

My mind convinced itself, finally, that he meant to take advantage; that he finally meant to do what my body had desired of him. However, he soon pulled away starting to leave. "Keep outta this area of town, Ryou. I don't wanna see you hurt."

I stared after him a moment, before my body finally began to function properly. "W-wait!" I called, breathlessly, relieved when he paused. "C-can you… tell me your name?"

"I can." He affirmed, that dark voice causing a small tremble to course through my body. "Perhaps… next time." And with that, he disappeared down the road, leaving me staring after him, my hand lightly coming to press fingertips against my lips. I could still feel his lips pressed against my own. I could still feel his body heat warming me, and his strong arm around my waist.

I could still hear him as I headed home, though he was long gone by that time. Malik's medicine was bought with money I seemed to have rather randomly acquired – I had a very suspicious feeling, though, that it was the stranger who'd placed it there.

* * *

_A/N: … Huh. Well that wasn't what I'd intended for this chapter, but somehow it just came out and ate my brain. So I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_Stay tuned for next chapter! We'll figure out what on earth made greedy little Bakura lend a helping hand. Are we seeing a good streak from the strange thief? Who knows?_


	4. Chapter 4

_For __whosoever of you is still hanging with me, I am so sorry. This is my graduating year, so I'm a little bit stressed out, and I have a lot of work on my plate, so I hope you understand. Despite this! After a three (four?) month hiatus, I am back with a new chapter of OftM, and soon (with luck!) for Oasis as well._

_You've waited long enough:_

_Offerings for the Moon_

"Bakura... Bakura quit spacing out on me, would you?" It's so hard to listen to Marik right now. It's so hard to even _think_ right now! It's been like this for days, I can hardly concentrate on a thing happening around me, because my brain is so caught up in a whirlwind of – of what?

Lust, perhaps. Infatuation, also very probable. If I mentioned it to Marik, he'd spout out that damned 'love' song of his, and if there's one thing I know this isn't, it's love. Desire. Desire sounds completely acceptable.

You see, if this feeling were love, I'd be dreaming of romantic bullshit every night, and I'm sure I could live with that: long walks on the beach, picnics in the park, rowing boats and talking. That kind of shit. Ridiculous shit.

That would be tolerable. Instead, I wake every morning trying to figure out what the fuck I'm going to do about the hard-on. I hadn't expected a simple kiss to light so much more in me. I can't help thinking about it. Despite his underfed state, everything about him was so soft… his hair, his ass, his lips. So warm and… God! It's times like this that I wish imagination would leave me completely.

Every night, it's all I can do not to strangle myself for want of him, for weeks! But I haven't seen him. Not hair nor hide of him, which is probably safest for him – especially considering what my mind is screaming for me to do. Tie him down. Strip him. Fuck him 'til he bleeds. Drag him home… rinse, repeat. My body craves him like nothing else, and no brothel bitch is going to appease this hunger.

Trust me. I've tried.

"Bakura, for fucks sake, quit ignoring me!" Marik kicks the chair out from under me, and I flop to the floor with a groan.

"What, what? I'm listening, I'm listening!"

"Bullshit you're listening. You've been ignoring me for like… an hour! What's so important in that stupid brain of yours that you'd rather listen to it than me, huh?" The look in his eyes is terrifying. He's plotting. Or thinking. I'm not entirely sure which is more dangerous.

"Anything is more important than listening to you, Marik," I grumble, getting back into my chair and straightening myself out. "Anything, I promise."

His eyebrow quirks and he grins. "So, ya'll gonna hit the bar with me tonight, or are you gonna hidey-hole away on me again and spend all your time with your hands, hm?"

A bar? I wrinkle my nose in distaste. I've been avoiding it too long, I suppose. I haven't spent time with him for the last couple weeks because of these damnable thoughts. "A bar…?"

"Yes, you know, those places where you drink and dance the night away, grind with hot people and get them so fuckin' wasted they submit to your every movement?"

Gods, I wish he wasn't so damn descriptive about it. Images rise to my brain again, Ryou, cheeks flushed, intoxicated, and intoxicating all at once, eyes fogged over… grinding, submitting, his body pressed flush against mine, mewling softly…

"… Sure, what the hell, why not?" I've gotta do something to get this kid the hell off my mind before he drives me insane. Twice. I've seen him all of twice and my brain won't release me from him!

"Good. Go clean yourself up then, you look like a bandit."

"I _am_ a bandit."

"Yes, but _they_ aren't supposed to know that. The bandit look doesn't suit you. Go back to rogue."

* * *

If I could focus, I'd explain what's happening. In the mean time, all I know is I can see him, he's been passing through the crowd – does that make any sense at all? It's as though they aren't there, as though they can't see that lithe form gliding through them with absolutely no resistance.

If I could stand, I wouldn't be sitting here. I'd have him, in a corner, screwing that fine little ass of his, with that soft voice of his begging for more. Fuck I'd enjoy that, but my legs won't work, they're like jello and nothing I can do can stabilize them.

If I thought he could hear me, I'd call out to him. The music is so loud, the people are so loud, everyone's so intoxicated and contact is relentless – except for him. I don't even think they're moving out of his way, I swear he's just passing right fuckin' through them.

Fuck, I must be completely gone. The spinning isn't infecting me yet, and I still feel my upper body, and that churning in my gut and – and that heat is swelling up, my body exclaiming my want. My need. I feel it still. My imagination is on high, I know this because I just watched some non-existent force shove him against a wall.

My imagination is acting up, far more than it has before. Nothing's touching him, he's in a pocket of nothing against a wall, opposite me, but blood is running down his cheek, now, as though some force has struck him. He cries out, but through the noise I can hear him. Not even through the noise, but as though it's in my head…

I'm not even sure he's really here. Perhaps it's really my imagination… his shirt's on the floor now. I don't know who or what took it off, because it seemed to me an invisible force did that, too. His eyes finally meet mine, full of tears, he's noticed me and his eyes widen to impossibly large saucer-esque sizes. Oh he looks fuckin' rapable. Mind, this is the first time my brain has conjured an image of rape… I generally like to pretend he'd be completely willing. And why shouldn't he?

Now I can't help my alarm. He's calling to me, though with no name… he's bleeding, and I don't know where it's coming from, and his body has been stripped completely. I'd fuckin' enjoy every second of it, too, if he didn't look so terrified. So… hurt.

My hands clench at my sides, and I make another vain attempt to stand before everything disappears from sight.

Suddenly, as if a whole new realm opened up, the bar is empty but for myself, Ryou, and a man who wasn't there brief moments before. The man who's pinning Ryou to the wall. My eyes narrow at where his hand is trailing to – over a slender stomach, skin quivering, down towards his genitals…

This time, my attempt to stand doesn't falter – and the hand around the man's throat doesn't miss. In seconds, the boy falls to the floor, and the man who hurt him is at my mercy against the same wall.

"Give me one good reason to spare your miserable life," I whisper, my voice easily adding in all the disgust and anger I feel welling up inside me.

It's then that I realize I recognize this man. This is the same rich pig I'd decked before for some similar treatment.

His hands claw at mine, which are still wrapped tightly around his throat. He tries to speak – tries and fails. Good. I don't want any excuses, and I don't want to have to deal with him again.

"Y-you… aren't going to k-kill him a-are you…?" the boy has reached his feet, now, and is tugging at my tunic rather timidly. Not kill him? … Does he honestly not want this man dead…?

"Of course I am. _You_ I will deal with later," I add, and he shrinks away, wide-eyed. Great. I scared him. I turn my eyes back to the man currently in front of me, and my hands clench tighter around his throat, feeling things click beneath my palm. His face is turning a strange shade, and blood vessels are protruding from just above his temple.

It feels like forever, holding him there, but eventually his quick pulse stops under my hands, and I dump him to one side, turning to look for Ryou, only to find the bar had refilled itself again, people dancing and grinding away, drinking like elephants at a waterhole.

The boy is gone. So is the body. I figure the alarm bells should have gone off when the bar-scene disappeared before, but this… this cinches it. Something is very, very wrong with this whole situation.

"Bakura? … Bakura?" Marik tugs at my arm, and I turn to look at him, feeling a cold sweat crawl down my back. "Are you okay…? You don't look so good."

"… I… have to go home, Marik…" I mutter, and take off through the crowd.

Apparently, the bar was not my cleverest plan.

* * *

_A/N: Well, was that acceptable? … Yes, this does mean the plot is finally kicking itself into gear! I had fun writing this –hearts- especially since I love writing pervy Baku…_did_ he get into that situation at all?_

Stay tuned for next chapter! _What, exactly, is going on here? How did Ryou get into that situation or… the better question is_, did _he get into that situation at all?_


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